What did you expect, fool?’ Vera squinted as if that could make her husband’s words vanish. She had just left the courtroom, where their divorce proceedings had concluded. Ten years of life together, ten years of grueling toil for the sake of the family—and this was how it all ended. The house they had built together… or so it had seemed to her.
Once, they had made a decision: her salary would be the primary source of funds for building the house, and Viktor, working in a low-level position, would handle the construction. He bought the materials, hired the workers, coordinated the process, while she provided all the financing. And then, two years after they had moved into the house, the shocking truth emerged: all the receipts were issued not in his name, but in his mother’s.
In other words, on paper the house belonged to his mother-in-law, not to them. The court ruling was unambiguous: Vera left with nothing. When she heard it in the courtroom, her first impulse was to laugh—a nervous, hysterical laugh. But then the sound caught in her throat as she saw Karina—Viktor’s mistress—sitting next to him, confirming the reason for the divorce.
‘One day everything will come back to you, Vitya,’ Vera said, looking him straight in the eyes. Her voice trembled with rage and hurt. ‘You can’t do anything on your own, you don’t know how to work and support a family. And this woman… She will leave you as soon as she finds out who you really are.’
‘And me?’ she turned to him, trying to hold back tears. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.’
Karina burst out laughing loudly, as if it were some kind of comedy.
‘What a touching speech! We’re all moved. It’s pathetic, isn’t it? You thought you were so smart, but you turned out… so mediocre.’
Vera abruptly turned and walked toward the cloakroom. ‘Just don’t break down. Don’t show any weakness,’ she repeated to herself. After taking a number, she received a coat and dashed out the door. Only when she reached the park did she stop to put it on. But looking at the clothing, she was surprised: it was clearly not her coat. It didn’t even remotely match her style. Instinctively, she reached into the pocket and felt a piece of paper.
Unfolding it, Vera read:
‘My dear, my beloved, forgive me. Forgive me for leaving you alone. But living in anticipation of death is simply unbearable. I love you very much. I have not been unfaithful. I just don’t want you to see me die. Forgive and farewell.’
Below the text was an address: Lunaya Street, House 7, Apartment 7. No further details.
Vera pondered. Who was this woman? Why had the note ended up here? Perhaps she wanted her husband to learn the truth, but couldn’t bring herself to deliver it personally?
Determined, Vera headed back toward the courthouse building and noticed Viktor’s car pulling away from the entrance. ‘Great, no need for a confrontation,’ she thought.
The cloakroom attendant, upon seeing Vera, flailed her arms:
‘Oh, I ran after you, but you were already out of sight! I’m so sorry. I got distracted and mixed things up.’
‘It’s all right,’ Vera replied, retrieving her coat. ‘Tell me, has this coat been here for a long time?’
‘For ages. I never could bring myself to throw it out. I remember that pair. They were so beautiful. It’s clear he loved her. And she loved him too. I never understood why they divorced. He ran out first, and she stared out the window for a long time, cried, then left without her coat. We waited for her to come back, but she never did.’
Vera nodded. So her hunch was right. Clutching the note in her pocket, she resolutely decided to deliver it to its addressee—no matter the cost.
At her friend Yulia’s home, where Vera was staying temporarily, she recounted her discovery.
‘And now what?’ Yulia asked, adjusting her glasses. ‘You bent over backwards all these years. Why didn’t you do anything sooner?’
‘Yul, let’s think about it tomorrow,’ Vera waved off. ‘Today there’s too much Viktor with his new mistress.’
‘Alright, don’t let him get to you. Let’s talk about something else.’
Vera handed over the note.
‘Read this, and I’ll tell you where it came from.’
After hearing the story, Yulia shook her head:
‘Are you really going to deliver this message to the address?’
‘Yes. Do you think it’s the right thing to do?’
‘On one hand, it is. But imagine: he may already be married. Married because he thought his beloved was cheating on him. And now this message. What guarantee is there that he won’t leave his new wife and go in search of his first? And what if she’s no longer alive?’
Yulia fell silent, gazing at her friend thoughtfully.
‘I see that this note has affected you. Then don’t agonize—go. Aren’t you on leave now?’
‘Yes, until the end of the week.’
That night Vera slept poorly. Strangely, her thoughts weren’t on Viktor and his betrayal, but on the mysterious note. She imagined that the woman was alive, and that she, Vera, would help restore the broken family. She pictured their meeting, their faces. It was only just before dawn that she fell asleep and overslept.
‘Probably that man is already at work,’ she thought, ‘but I’ll go anyway. Perhaps I can learn something from the neighbors.’
The journey was long—to the opposite end of the city. The house turned out to be neat and well-kept.
Vera called the apartment. Silence. ‘Of course, he’s at work,’ she thought, and was about to go downstairs when the neighboring door opened a crack.
‘In the morning everyone’s out and about, no peace at all,’ grumbled a voice from behind the door.
An elderly woman looked at Vera in surprise.
‘Are you here for Maksim, perhaps?’
Quickly, Vera adjusted:
‘Yes, I need Maksim.’
‘Ah, Maksim… He’s not here. Probably off for another fix. Go on in.’
Vera cautiously stepped over the threshold.
‘Go to the kitchen, we’ll have some tea. Maybe this Maksim will show up,’ the old lady invited. ‘I just can’t understand—why would he agree to meet you now? A year ago, yes, but now…’
‘Is something wrong with him?’ Vera asked carefully.
‘Wrong. Ever since Polina left him and went back to her parents in her hometown, he hasn’t been the same. He drinks like a sailor almost every day. It’s been nearly a year now.’
‘What? That can’t be!’ Vera exclaimed.
‘Why not? It can. He did everything for her. You understand? Everything. He would have brought the stars from the sky. We all thought she loved him too. And she… To cheat on such a man! And not even hide it, but announce it herself…’
The entrance door banged loudly in the hallway.
‘Oh, that must be Maksim. Hurry, before he gets too drunk,’ whispered a neighbor, watching Vera with concern.
Vera stepped outside and found herself face-to-face with the very man. He was just about to enter his door.
‘Maksim!’ she called out, trying to speak calmly.
He held the door for her and looked at her—a look heavy with emptiness, as if hiding a void inside.
‘Are you here for me?’
‘Yes. Wait, I need to speak with you. It’s important.’
‘About what?’
‘About Polina.’
His face instantly hardened.
‘There’s nothing to discuss about that,’ he snapped, trying to close the door, but Vera managed to grab the handle.
‘You’re mistaken, there is something to discuss!’
Maksim smirked, released the door, and stepped into the apartment without looking back. Vera hesitated for a moment, then stepped decisively after him. ‘No, I’ll get my way,’ she thought.
From deep within the apartment came the clink of bottles. She followed the sound and found him in the kitchen.
‘I told you, there’s nothing to talk about,’ he grumbled without looking at her.
‘But you will have to listen to me,’ Vera declared firmly.
‘I don’t want to hear anything about that… bitch.’
‘She’s not a bitch,’ Vera interrupted.
‘Right. One of her girlfriends decided to amuse herself? What, her latest lover didn’t work out, so she sent you?’
‘I have never in my life seen Polina. I don’t know her personally,’ Vera explained patiently. ‘But you, it seems, are a bad husband if you believed that she was cheating on you.’
Maksim poured himself a drink, but Vera, trying to beat him to it, hurriedly added:
‘Here, read this. When you were divorcing, your wife was so distraught that she forgot her coat in the courthouse cloakroom. I was given it by mistake, and in its pocket was this note. Read it, and you’ll understand. Perhaps she simply couldn’t deliver it to you. Maybe you said too many… harsh things.’
She handed him the sheet. Maksim mechanically scanned the first few lines, and his face began to change.
‘If this is a joke, I will destroy you,’ he said coldly.
Vera was frightened. What if it really was a fake? What if Polina had merely been copying excerpts from books for calligraphy practice? But now it was too late to back down.
Without another word, Maksim dashed out of the room, only to return a minute later with a dusty phone. He fiddled with the charger for a long while until the screen finally lit up.
‘Damn, the number’s disconnected,’ he muttered.
Vera offered her phone.
‘Take mine.’
He dialed the number, waiting a long time for an answer.
‘Elena Sergeyevna, where is Polina?.. What do you mean, “too late”? What are you talking about?’ his voice trembled.
A woman on the other end of the line tried to explain something, and Maksim grew increasingly pale.
‘No, no, that can’t be!’ he sighed, lowering the phone on the table.
Then he looked up at Vera:
‘Please, leave.’
Vera silently rose and headed for the exit. She feared she might hear the sound of liquid being poured, but the apartment was enveloped in silence.
Outside, a neighbor awaited her.
‘So, did you talk?’ the neighbor asked. ‘Don’t worry, Polinka has done something, hasn’t she?’
‘She hasn’t done anything, and won’t do anything,’ Vera replied quietly. ‘She wasn’t unfaithful. She was ill, and left so as not to torment you.’
The neighbor gasped:
‘Then why isn’t she coming back?’
‘She can’t come back. She’s dead,’ Vera replied tersely and walked down the stairs.
Half an hour later, Maksim emerged from the building. He was shaven, dressed in clean, elegant clothes. When he tried to start his car, he found the battery was dead, so he called a taxi.
Vera hid from people for nearly a week. Yulia tried to coax her into a conversation:
‘Vera, you were always so strong, and now you’ve wilted.’
‘Yul, I’ll manage. I just need time.’
A week later, she returned to work. Her colleagues remained silent, which suited her fine. At the same time, she looked for a new place to live, although Yulia urged her to stay.
One evening, while undressing in the hall, she heard voices coming from the kitchen. One of them was a man’s. She was about to leave so as not to disturb Yulia, but then Yulia appeared in the hall.
‘Oh, Vera! I hear some sounds. Come in quickly, you have a guest!’
‘For me?’ Vera was surprised.
In the kitchen, Maksim awaited her.
‘Hello, Vera. I apologize for my behavior earlier. I came to thank you.’
Before her stood a completely different man—confident, well-groomed, but with pain still visible in his eyes.
They talked for a long time. Yulia left, and they didn’t even notice how dawn broke outside.
‘Sorry, I’ve worn you out with my rambling,’ Maksim said as he got up.
At the door he asked:
‘What if I invite you and Yulia for a weekend at the country house? It’s my birthday, and friends want to celebrate my “comeback.” I’ll call you a taxi back.’
Six months passed.
‘Maks, how are we going to tell Yulka and Pavel?’ Vera asked, leaning against his shoulder.
‘They’re to blame for keeping secrets. Now let them explain themselves,’ he smirked.
Today they had submitted their application at the registry office. Ten minutes later, Pavel, Maksim’s friend, called to say that he and Yulia had also decided to get married.
‘That’s great. Let’s go, or they’ll blame us for everything,’ Vera smiled.
As they stepped out onto the street, Maksim opened the door of his car.
‘Vera?’
She turned. On the sidewalk stood Viktor.
‘Vera, we need to talk.’
Viktor shot Maksim a bitter look. Maksim smirked and stepped closer.
‘I take it you’re the very builder who deprived a woman of her home?’
‘It’s all clear,’ Viktor spat, and strode away.
Vera smiled.
‘Let’s go, or they’ll blame us for everything.’